Chapter 2: The Outbreak of War.
Chapter 3: A Prisoner.
Chapter 4: A Ruined Temple.
Chapter 5: With Brigands.
Chapter 6: Among Friends.
Chapter 7: On The Staff.
Chapter 8: The Pagoda.
Chapter 9: Victories.
Chapter 10: The Advance.
Chapter 11: Donabew.
Chapter 12: Harry Carried Off.
Chapter 13: Preparing A Rescue.
Chapter 14: In The Temple.
Chapter 15: The Attack.
Chapter 16: Rejoining.
Chapter 17: The Pride Of Burma Humbled.
Chapter 18: In Business Again.
Illustrations
Stanley is brought before Bandoola, the Burmese general.
Stanley gave a sudden spring, and buried his knife in the leopard.
They forced the canoe behind bushes, so as to be entirely concealed.
The Burmese make a great effort to capture Pagoda Hill.
Stanley cut down the man who was about to fire the hut.
The great snake moved his head higher and higher, hissing angrily.
In vain the Burmese tried to force their way into the chamber.
The old Burmese general was carried from point to point in a litter.
Preface.
With the exception of the terrible retreat from Afghanistan, none
of England's many little wars have been so fatal--in proportion to
the number of those engaged--as our first expedition to Burma. It
was undertaken without any due comprehension of the difficulties to
be encountered, from the effects of climate and the deficiency of
transport; the power, and still more the obstinacy and arrogance of
the court of Ava were altogether underrated; and it was considered
that our possession of her ports would assuredly bring the enemy,
who had wantonly forced the struggle upon us, to submission.
Events, however, proved the completeness of the error. The Burman
policy of carrying off every boat on the river, laying waste the
whole country, and driving away the inhabitants and the herds,
maintained our army as prisoners in Rangoon through the first wet
season; and caused the loss of half the white officers and men
first sent there. The subsequent campaign was no less fatal and,
although large reinforcements had been sent, fifty percent of the
whole died; so that less than two thousand fighting men remained in
the ranks, when the expedition arrived within a short distance of
Ava. Not until the last Burmese army had been scattered did the
court of Ava submit to the by no means onerous terms we imposed.
Great, indeed, was the contrast presented by this first invasion of
the country with the last war in 1885, which brought about the
final annexation of Burma. Then a fleet of steamers conveyed the
troops up the noble river; while in 1824 a solitary steamer was all
that India could furnish, to aid the flotilla of rowboats. No worse
government has ever existed than that of Burma when, with the boast
that she intended to drive the British out of India, she began the
war. No people were ever kept down by a more grinding tyranny, and
the occupation of the country by the British has been an even
greater blessing to the population than has that of India.
Several works, some by eyewitnesses, others compiled from official
documents, appeared after the war. They differ remarkably in the
relation of details, and still more in the spelling of the names
both of persons and places. I have chiefly followed those given in
the narratives of Mr. H. H. Wilson, and of Major Snodgrass, the
military secretary to the commander of the expedition.
Chapter 1: A New Career.
A party was assembled in a room of an hotel in Calcutta, at the end
of the year 1822. It consisted of a gentleman, a lady in deep
mourning, a boy of between fourteen and fifteen, and two girls of
thirteen and twelve.
"I think you had better accept my offer, Nellie," the gentleman was
saying. "You will find it hard work enough to make both ends meet,
with these two girls; and Stanley would be a heavy drain on you.
The girls cost nothing but their clothes; but he must go to a
decent school, and then there would be the trouble of thinking what
to do with him, afterwards. If I could have allowed you a couple of
hundred a year, it would have been altogether different; but you
see I am fighting an uphill fight, myself, and need every penny
that I can scrape together. I am getting on; and I can see well
enough that, unless something occurs to upset the whole thing, I
shall be doing a big trade, one of these days; but every half penny
of profit has to go into the business. So, as you know, I cannot
help you at present though, by the time the girls grow up, I hope I
shall be able to do so, and that to a good extent.
"I feel sure that it would not be a bad thing for Stanley. He will
soon get to be useful to me, and in three or four years will be a
valuable assistant. Speaking Hindustani as well as he does, he
won't be very long in picking up enough of the various dialects in
Kathee and Chittagong for our purpose and, by twenty, he will have
a share of the business, and be on the highway towards making his
fortune. It will be infinitely better than anything he is likely to
find in England, and he will be doing a man's work at the age when
he would still be a schoolboy in England.
"I have spoken to him about it. Of course, he does not like leaving
you, but he says that he should like it a thousand times better
than, perhaps, having to go into some humdrum office in England."
"Thank you, Tom," Mrs. Brooke said with a sigh. "It will be very
hard to part with him--terribly hard--but I see that it is by far
the best thing for him and, as you say, in a monetary way it will
be a relief to me. I think I can manage very comfortably on the
pension, in some quiet place at home, with the two girls; but
Stanley's schooling would be a heavy drain. I might even manage
that, for I might earn a little money by painting; but there would
be the question of what to do with him when he left school and,
without friends or influence, it will be hopeless to get him into
any good situation.
"You see, Herbert's parents have both died since he came out here
and, though he was distantly related to the Earl of Netherly, he
was only a second cousin, or something of that kind, and knew
nothing about the family; and of course I could not apply to them."
"Certainly not, Nellie," her brother agreed. "There is nothing so
hateful as posing as a poor relation--and that is a connection
rather than a relationship. Then you will leave the boy in my
hands?"
"I am sure that it will be best," she said, with a tremor in her
voice, "and at any rate, I shall have the comfort of knowing that
he will be well looked after."
Mrs. Brooke was the widow of a captain in one of the native
regiments of the East India Company. He had, six weeks before this,
been carried off suddenly by an outbreak of cholera; and she had
been waiting at Calcutta, in order to see her brother, before
sailing for England. She was the daughter of an English clergyman,
who had died some seventeen years before. Nellie, who was then
eighteen, being motherless as well as fatherless, had determined to
sail for India. A great friend of hers had married and gone out, a
year before. Nellie's father was at that time in bad health; and
her friend had said to her, at parting:
"Now mind, Nellie, I have your promise that, if you should find
yourself alone here, you will come out to me in India. I shall be
very glad to have you with me, and I don't suppose you will be on
my hands very long; pretty girls don't remain single many months,
in India."
So, seeing nothing better to do, Nellie had, shortly after her
father's death, sailed for Calcutta.
Lieutenant Brooke was also a passenger on board the Ava, and during
the long voyage he and Nellie Pearson became engaged; and were
married, from her friend's house, a fortnight after their arrival.
Nellie was told that she was a foolish girl, for that she ought to
have done better; but she was perfectly happy. The pay and
allowances of her husband were sufficient for them to live upon in
comfort; and though, when the children came, there was little to
spare, the addition of pay when he gained the rank of captain was
ample for their wants. They had been, in fact, a perfectly happy
couple--both had bright and sunny dispositions, and made the best
of everything; and she had never had a serious care, until he was
suddenly taken away from her.
Stanley had inherited his parents' disposition and, as his sisters,
coming so soon after him, occupied the greater portion of his
mother's care, he was left a good deal to his own devices; and
became a general pet in the regiment, and was equally at home in
the men's lines and in the officers' bungalows. The native language
came as readily to him as English and, by the time he was ten, he
could talk in their own tongue with the men from the three or four
different districts from which the regiment had been recruited. His
father devoted a couple of hours a day to his studies. He did not
attempt to teach him Latin--which would, he thought, be altogether
useless to him--but gave him a thorough grounding in English and
Indian history, and arithmetic, and insisted upon his spending a
certain time each day in reading standard English authors.
Tom Pearson, who was five years younger than his sister, had come
out to India four years after her. He was a lad full of life and
energy. As soon as he left school, finding himself the master of a
hundred pounds--the last remains of the small sum that his father
had left behind him--he took a second-class passage to Calcutta. As
soon as he had landed, he went round to the various merchants and
offices and, finding that he could not, owing to a want of
references, obtain a clerkship, he took a place in the store of a
Parsee merchant who dealt in English goods. Here he remained for
five years, by which time he had mastered two or three native
languages, and had obtained a good knowledge of business.
He now determined to start on his own account. He had lived hardly,
saving up every rupee not needed for actual necessaries and, at the
end of the five years he had, in all, a hundred and fifty pounds.
He had, long before this, determined that the best opening for
trade was among the tribes on the eastern borders of the British
territory; and had specially devoted himself to the study of the
languages of Kathee and Chittagong.
Investing the greater portion of his money in goods suitable for the
trade, he embarked at Calcutta in a vessel bound for Chittagong.
There he took passage in a native craft going up the great river to
Sylhet, where he established his headquarters; and thence--leaving
the greater portion of his goods in the care of a native merchant,
with whom his late employer had had dealings--started with a native,
and four donkeys on which his goods were packed, to trade among the
wild tribes.
His success fully equalled his anticipations and, gradually, he
extended his operations; going as far east as Manipur, and south
almost as far as Chittagong. The firm in Calcutta from whom he had,
in the first place, purchased his goods, sent him up fresh stores
as he required them; and soon, seeing the energy with which he was
pushing his business, gave him considerable credit, and he was able
to carry on his operations on an increasingly larger scale. Sylhet
remained his headquarters; but he had a branch at Chittagong,
whither goods could be sent direct from Calcutta, and from this he
drew his supplies for his trade in that province.
Much of his business was carried on by means of the waterways, and
the very numerous streams that covered the whole country, and
enabled him to carry his goods at a far cheaper rate than he could
transport them by land; and for this purpose he had a boat
specially fitted up with a comfortable cabin. He determined, from
the first, to sell none but the best goods in the market; and thus
he speedily gained the confidence of the natives, and the arrival
of his boats was eagerly hailed by the villagers on the banks of
the rivers.
He soon found that money was scarce; and that, to do a good
business, he must take native products in barter for his goods; and
that in this way he not only did a much larger trade, but obtained
a very much better price for his wares than if he had sold only for
money; and he soon consigned considerable quantities to the firm in
Calcutta and, by so doing, obtained a profit both ways. He himself
paid a visit to Calcutta, every six months or so, to choose fresh
fashions of goods; and to visit the firm, with whom his dealings,
every year, became more extensive. But, though laying the
foundations for an extensive business, he was not, as he told his
sister, at present in a position to help her; for his increasing
trade continually demanded more and more capital, and the whole of
his profits were swallowed up by the larger stocks that had to be
held at his depots at Sylhet, Chittagong, and at the mouths of the
larger rivers.
Twice since he had been out he had met his sister at Calcutta, and
when she came down after her husband's death, and heard from Tom's
agents that he would probably arrive there in the course of a
fortnight, she decided to wait there and meet him. He was greatly
grieved at her loss, and especially so as he was unable to offer
her a home; for as his whole time was spent in travelling, it was
impossible for him to do so; nor indeed, would she have accepted
it. Now that her husband was gone, she yearned to be back in
England again. It was, too, far better for the girls that she
should take them home. But when he now offered to take the boy she
felt that, hard as it would be to leave Stanley behind, the offer
was a most advantageous one for him.
The boy's knowledge of Indian languages, which would be of immense
advantage to him in such a life, would be absolutely useless in
England and, from what Tom told her of his business, there could be
little doubt that the prospects were excellent. Stanley himself,
who now saw his uncle for the first time, was attracted to him by
the energy and cheeriness of manner that had rendered him so
successful in business; and he was stirred by the enterprise and
adventure of the life he proposed for him. More than once, in the
little-frequented rivers that stretched into Kathee, his boats had
been attacked by wild tribesmen; and he had to fight hard to keep
them off. Petty chiefs had, at times, endeavoured to obstruct his
trading and, when at Manipur, he had twice been witness of
desperate fights between rival claimants for the throne. All this
was, to a boy brought up among soldiers, irresistibly fascinating;
especially as the alternative seemed to be a seat in a dull
counting house in England.
He was, then, delighted when his mother gave her consent to his
remaining with his uncle; grieved as he was at being parted from
her and his sisters. The thought that he should, in time, be able
to be of assistance to her was a pleasant one; and aided him to
support the pain of parting when, a week later, she sailed with the
girls for England.
"I suppose you have not done any shooting, Stanley?" his uncle
asked.
"Not with a gun, but I have practised sometimes with pistols.
Father thought that it would be useful."
"Very useful; and you must learn to shoot well with them, and with
fowling-piece and rifle. What with river thieves, and dacoits, and
wild tribes--to say nothing of wild beasts--a man who travels
about, as I do, wants to be able to shoot straight. The straighter
you shoot, the less likely you are to have to do so. I have come to
be a good shot myself and, whenever we row up a river, I constantly
practise--either at floating objects in the water, or at birds or
other marks in the trees. I have the best weapons that money can
buy. It is my one extravagance, and the result is that, to my
boatmen and the men about me, my shooting seems to be marvellous;
they tell others of it, and the result is that I am regarded with
great respect. I have no doubt, whatever, that it has saved me from
much trouble; for the natives have almost got to believe that I
only have to point my gun, and the man I wish to kill falls dead,
however far distant."
Two days after the departure of Mrs. Brooke, her brother and
Stanley started down the Hoogly in a native trader.
"She is a curious-looking craft, uncle."
"Yes; she would not be called handsome in home waters, but she is
uncommonly fast; and I find her much more convenient, in many ways,
than a British merchantman."
"Is she yours, uncle?"
"No, she is not mine, and I do not exactly charter her; but she
works principally for me. You see, the wages are so low that they
can work a craft like this for next to nothing. Why, the captain
and his eight men, together, don't get higher pay than the
boatswain of an English trader.
"The captain owns the vessel. He is quite content if he gets a few
rupees a month, in addition to what he considers his own rate of
pay. His wife and his two children live on board. If the craft can
earn twenty rupees a week, he considers that he is doing
splendidly. At the outside, he would not pay his men more than four
rupees a month, each, and I suppose that he would put down his
services at eight; so that would leave him forty rupees a month as
the profit earned by the ship.
"In point of fact, I keep him going pretty steadily. He makes trips
backwards and forwards between the different depots; carries me up
the rivers for a considerable distance; does a little trade on his
own account--not in goods such as I sell, you know, but purely
native stores--takes a little freight when he can get it, and
generally a few native passengers. I pay him fifteen rupees a week,
and I suppose he earns from five to ten in addition; so that the
arrangement suits us both, admirably.
"I keep the stern cabin for myself. As you see, she has four little
brass guns, which I picked up for a song at Calcutta; and there are
twenty-four muskets aft. It is an arrangement that the crew are to
practise shooting once a week, so they have all come to be pretty
fair shots; and the captain, himself, can send a two-pound shot
from those little guns uncommonly straight.
"You will be amused when you see us practising for action. The
captain's wife and the two boys load the guns, and do it very
quickly, too. He runs round from gun to gun, takes aim, and fires.
The crew shout, and yell, and bang away with their muskets. I take
the command, and give a few pice among them, if the firing has been
accurate.
"We have been attacked, once or twice, in the upper waters; but
have always managed to beat the robbers off, without much
difficulty. The captain fires away, till they get pretty close; and
I pepper them with my rifles--I have three of them. When they get
within fifty yards, the crew open fire and, as they have three
muskets each, they can make it very hot for the pirates. I have a
store of hand grenades and, if they push on, I throw two or three
on board when they get within ten yards; and that has always
finished the matter. They don't understand the things bursting in
the middle of them. I don't mean to say that my armament would be
of much use, if we were trading along the coast of the Malay
Peninsula or among the Islands, but it is quite enough to deal with
the petty robbers of these rivers."
"But I thought that you had a boat that you went up the rivers in,
uncle?"
"Yes; we tow a rowboat and a store boat up, behind this craft, as
far as she can go; that is, as long as she has wind enough to make
against the sluggish stream. When she can go no further, I take to
the rowboat. It has eight rowers, carries a gun--it is a
twelve-pounder howitzer--that I have had cut short, so that it is
only about a foot long. Of course it won't carry far, but that is
not necessary. Its charge is a pound of powder and a ten-pound bag
of bullets and, at a couple of hundred yards, the balls scatter
enough to sweep two or three canoes coming abreast and, as we can
charge and fire the little thing three times in a minute, it is all
that we require, for practical purposes.
"It is only on a few of the rivers we go up that there is any fear
of trouble. On the river from Sylhet to the east and its branches
in Kathee or, as it is sometimes called, Kasi, the country is
comparatively settled. The Goomtee beyond Oudypore is well enough,
until it gets into Kaayn, which is what they call independent. That
is to say, it owns no authority; and some villages are peaceable
and well disposed, while others are savage. The same may be said of
the Munnoo and Fenny rivers.
"For the last two years I have done a good deal of trade in Assam,
up the Brahmaputra river. As far as Rungpoor there are a great many
villages on the banks, and the people are quiet and peaceable."
"Then you don't go further south than Chittagong, uncle?"
"No. The Burmese hold Aracan on the south and, indeed, for some
distance north of it there is no very clearly-defined border. You
see, the great river runs from Rangoon very nearly due north,
though with a little east in it; and extends along at the back of
the districts I trade with; so that the Burmese are not very far
from Manipur which, indeed, stands on a branch of the Irrawaddy, of
which another branch runs nearly up to Rungpoor.
"We shall have big trouble with them, one of these days; indeed, we
have had troubles already. You see, the Burmese are a great and
increasing power, and have so easily conquered all their neighbours
that they regard themselves as invincible. Until the beginning of
the eighteenth century, the Burmese were masters of Pegu; then the
people of that country, with the help of the Dutch and Portuguese,
threw off their yoke. But the Burmese were not long kept down for,
in 1753, Alompra--a hunter--gathered a force round him and, after
keeping up an irregular warfare for some time, was joined by so
many of his countrymen that he attacked and captured Ava, conquered
the whole of Pegu and, in 1759, the English trading colony at
Negrais were massacred.
"This, however, was not the act of Alompra, but of the treachery of
a Frenchman named Levine, and of an Armenian; who incited the
Burmese of the district to exterminate the English--hoping, no
doubt, thus to retrieve, in a new quarter, the fortunes of France,
which in India were being extinguished by the genius of Clive. The
English were, at the time, far too occupied with the desperate
struggle they were having, in India, to attempt to revenge the
massacre of their countrymen at Negrais.
"Very rapidly the Burman power spread. They captured the valuable
Tenasserim coast, from Siam; repulsed a formidable invasion from
China; annexed Aracan, and dominated Manipur, and thus became
masters of the whole tract of country lying between China and
Hindustan. As they now bordered upon our territory, a mission was
sent in 1794 to them from India, with a proposal for the settlement
of boundaries, and for the arrangement of trade between the two
countries. Nothing came of it, for the Burmese had already
proposed, to themselves, the conquest of India; and considered the
mission as a proof of the terror that their advance had inspired
among us.
"After the conquest by them of Aracan, in 1784, there had been a
constant irritation felt against us by the Burmese; owing to the
fact that a great number of fugitives from that country had taken
refuge in the swamps and islands of Chittagong; from which they,
from time to time, issued and made raids against the Burmese. In
1811 these fugitives, in alliance with some predatory chiefs,
invaded Aracan in force and, being joined by the subject population
there, expelled the Burmese. These, however, soon reconquered the
province. The affair was, nevertheless, unfortunate, since the
Burmese naturally considered that, as the insurrection had begun
with an invasion by the fugitives in Chittagong, it had been
fomented by us.
"This was in no way the fact. We had no force there capable of
keeping the masses of fugitives in order; but we did our best, and
arrested many of the leaders, when they returned after their
defeat. This, however, was far from satisfying the Burmese. A
mission was sent, to Ava, to assure them of our friendly
intentions; and that we had had nothing whatever to do with the
invasion, and would do all we could to prevent its recurrence. The
Burmese government declined to receive the mission.
"We, ourselves, had much trouble with the insurgents for, fearful
of re-entering Burma after their defeat, they now carried on a
series of raids in our territory; and it was not until 1816 that
these were finally suppressed. Nevertheless, the court of Ava
remained dissatisfied; and a fresh demand was raised for the
surrender of the chiefs who had been captured, and of the whole of
the fugitives living in the government of Chittagong. The Marquis
of Hastings replied that the British government could not, without
a violation of the principles of justice, deliver up those who had
sought its protection; that tranquillity now existed, and there was
no probability of a renewal of the disturbances; but that the
greatest vigilance should be used, to prevent and punish the
authors of any raid that might be attempted against Aracan.
"A year later a second letter was received, demanding on the part
of the king the cession of Ramoo, Chittagong, Moorshedabad, and
Dacca; that is to say, of the whole British possessions east of the
Ganges. Lord Hastings simply replied that if it was possible to
suppose that the demand had been dictated by the King of Ava, the
British government would be justified in regarding it as a
declaration of war. To this the Burmese made no reply. Doubtless
they had heard of the successes we had gained in Central India, and
had learned that our whole force was disposable against them.
"Three years ago the old king died, and a more warlike monarch
succeeded him. Since 1810 they have been mixed up in the troubles
that have been going on in Assam, where a civil war had been
raging. One party or other has sought their assistance, and
fighting has been going on there nearly incessantly and, two months
ago, the Burmese settled the question by themselves taking
possession of the whole country.
"This has, of course, been a serious blow to me. Although disorder
has reigned, it has not interfered with my trading along the banks
of the river; but now that the Burmese have set up their authority,
I shall, for a time anyhow, be obliged to give up my operations
there; for they have evinced considerable hostility to us--have made
raids near Rungpoor, on our side of the river, and have pulled down
a British flag on an island in the Brahmaputra. We have taken, in
consequence, the principality of Cachar under our protection--indeed
its two princes, seeing that the Burmese were beginning to invade
their country, invited us to take this step--and we thus occupy the
passes from Manipur into the low country of Sylhet."
"I wonder that you have been able to trade in Manipur, uncle, as
the Burmese have been masters there."
"I am not trading with the capital itself, and the Burmese have
been too occupied with their affairs in Assam to exercise much
authority in the country. Besides, you see, there has not been war
between the two countries. Our merchants at Rangoon still carry on
their trade up the Irrawaddy; and in Assam, this spring, the only
trouble I had was that I had to pay somewhat higher tolls than I
had done before. However, now that Cachar is under our protection,
I hope that I shall make up for my loss of trade, in Assam, by
doing better than before in that province."
"I thought you called it Kathee, uncle?"
"So it is generally named but, as it is spoken of as Cachar in the
proclamation assuming the protectorate, I suppose it will be called
so in future; but all these names, out here, are spelt pretty much
according to fancy."
While this conversation had been going on, the boat had been
running fast down the river, passing several European vessels
almost as if they had been standing still.
"I should not have thought that a boat like this would pass these
large ships," Stanley said.
"We have a good deal to learn in the art of sailing, yet," his
uncle replied. "A great many of these Indian dhows can run away
from a square-rigged ship, in light weather. I don't know whether
it is the lines of their hulls or the cut of the sails, but there
is no doubt about their speed. They seem to skim over the water,
while our bluff-bowed craft shove their way through it. I suppose,
some day, we shall adopt these long sharp bows; when we do, it will
make a wonderful difference in our rate of sailing. Then, too,
these craft have a very light draft of water but, on the other
hand, they have a deep keel, which helps them to lie close to the
wind; and that long, overhanging bow renders them capital craft in
heavy weather for, as they meet the sea, they rise over it
gradually; instead of its hitting them full on the bow, as it does
our ships. We have much to learn, yet, in the way of ship
building."
The trader had his own servant with him, and the man now came up
and said that a meal was ready, and they at once entered the cabin.
It was roomy and comfortable, and was, like the rest of the boat,
of varnished teak. There were large windows in the stern; it had a
table, with two fixed benches; and there were broad, low sofas on
each side. Above these the muskets were disposed, in racks; while
at the end by the door were Tom Pearson's own rifles, four brace of
pistols, and a couple of swords. Ten long spears were suspended
from the roof of the cabin, in leather slings. The floor, like the
rest of the cabin, was varnished.
"It looks very comfortable, uncle."
"Yes; you see, I live quite half my time on board, the rest being
spent in the boat. My man is a capital cook. He comes from
Chittagong, and is a Mug."
"What are Mugs, uncle?"
"They are the original inhabitants of Aracan. He was one of those
who remained there, after the Burmese had conquered it, and speaks
their language as well as his own. I recommend you to begin it with
him, at once. If things settle down in Assam, it will be very
useful for you in arranging with the Burmese officials. You won't
find it very easy, though of course your knowledge of three or four
Indian tongues will help you. It is said to be a mixture of the old
Tali, Sanscrit, Tartar, and Chinese. The Tartar and Chinese words
will, of course, be quite new to you; the other two elements will
resemble those that you are familiar with.
"I talk to the man in Hindustani. He picked up a little of it at
Chittagong, and has learned a good deal more, during the two years
that he has been with me; and through that you will be able to
learn Burmese."
A week later the dhow entered the harbour. Stanley had passed most
of his time in conversation with Khyen, Tom's servant. The facility
his tongue had acquired in the Indian languages was of great
benefit to him, and he speedily picked up a good many Burmese
sentences.
For the next six months he continued, with his uncle, the work the
latter had carried on; and enjoyed it much. They sailed up the
sluggish rivers, with their low, flat shores, in the dhow; towing
the rowboat and the store boat behind them. The crews of these
boats lived on board the dhow until their services were required,
helping in its navigation and aiding the crew when the wind dropped
and sweeps were got out.
The villages along the banks were for the most part small, but were
very numerous. At each of these the dhow brought up. There was, in
almost all cases, sufficient water to allow of her being moored
alongside the banks and, as soon as she did so, the natives came on
board to make their purchases and dispose of their produce. In
addition to the European and Indian goods carried, the dhow was
laden with rice, for which there was a considerable demand at most
of the villages.
As soon as he had learned the price of the various goods, and their
equivalent in the products of the country, Stanley did much of the
bartering; while his uncle went ashore and talked with the head men
of the village, with all of whom he made a point of keeping on good
terms, and so securing a great portion of the trade that might,
otherwise, have been carried by native craft.
Three times during the six months the dhow had gone back to
Calcutta, to fetch fresh supplies of goods and to take in another
cargo of rice; while the trader proceeded higher up the river, in
his own boats. While on the voyage, Stanley always had the rifle
and fowling piece that his uncle had handed over, for his special
use, leaning against the bulwark, close at hand; and frequently
shot waterfowl, which were so abundant that he was able to keep not
only their own table supplied, but to furnish the crew and boatmen
with a considerable quantity of food. They had had no trouble with
river pirates, for these had suffered so heavily, in previous
attacks upon the dhow, that they shunned any repetition of their
loss. At the same time every precaution was taken, for, owing to the
intestine troubles in Cachar and Assam, fugitives belonging to the
party that happened, for the time, to be worsted, were driven to
take refuge in the jungles near the rivers; and to subsist largely
on plunder, the local authorities being too feeble to root them
out. The boats, therefore, were always anchored in the middle of
the stream at night and two men were kept on watch.
To the south as well as in the north, the trading operations were
more restricted; for the Burmese became more and more aggressive.
Elephant hunters, in the hills that formed the boundary of the
British territory to the east, were seized and carried off;
twenty-three in one place being captured, and six in another--all
being ill treated and imprisoned, and the remonstrances of the
Indian government treated with contempt by the Rajah of Aracan. It
was evident that the object of the Burmese was to possess
themselves of this hill country in order that they might, if they
chose, pour down at any time into the cultivated country round the
town of Ramoo.
"There is no doubt, Stanley," said his uncle one day, "we shall
very shortly have a big war with the Burmese. The fact that these
constant acts of aggression are met only by remonstrances, on our
part, increases their arrogance; and they are convinced that we are
in mortal terror of them. They say that in Assam their leaders are
openly boasting that, ere long, they will drive us completely from
India; and one of their generals has confidently declared that,
after taking India, they intend to conquer England. With such
ignorant people, there is but one argument understood--namely,
force; and sooner or later we shall have to give them such a hearty
thrashing that they will be quiet for some time.
"Still, I grant that the difficulties are great. Their country is a
tremendous size, the beggars are brave, and the climate, at any
rate near the sea coast, is horribly unhealthy. Altogether it will
be a big job; but it will have to be done, or in a very short time
we shall see them marching against Calcutta."